


Tracing Constellations

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Minor Character Death, Minor Violence, Pining, Secret Identity, superhero! Yuta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:46:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27118397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Yuta keeps too many secrets from his housemate, Kim Doyoung - and perhaps one that isn't particularly hero related. Forced into superhero business, he finds himself drifting apart from the person he cares about most.((Until his phone lights up and it's not just about him anymore))
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Nakamoto Yuta
Comments: 11
Kudos: 57
Collections: NCTV Secret Santa 2020





	Tracing Constellations

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mochibbh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mochibbh/gifts).



> Supriseee!!! Hope you enjoy this gift of yours!
> 
> Mind the tags!!!

“I believe, there’s a typo right…  _ there _ !”

A fair skinned hand passed over his shoulder to take hold of the mouse, clicking on the double  _ n  _ he had overlooked in his document before retracting. Yuta let out a fond sigh, tilting his head back so his gaze was skyward and met the dark eyes of his housemate.

Doyoung let out a small exhale as he flicked the others forehead, prompting him to snap his head forward to clutch at the spot. “That’s a person’s resume, Yuta. Things like that won’t pass by the eyes of the ever increasing judgemental society we have today.”

“I was going to have you read it over!” Yuta groaned, lowering his hands to slap Doyoung lightly on the arm. “What summoned you out of bed so early, anyway?”

The statement had Doyoung scoffing before he shoved a damp light brown letter down the front of Yuta’s shirt – _ Doie, what the FUCK! _ – a look of exasperation adorning his delicate features.

“Mail came by this morning, and Aunt Lee had accidentally gotten it wet when she was washing her car.” The letter was pulled out carefully, almost ripping as it’s damp state made it stick. “I think it was stuck between the gates but came loose.”

The nagging went over his head as Yuta opened the first fold –

And caught sight of the symbol printed on the edge.

Unfortunate for him, Doyoung read people like a book, courtesy of his upbringing in a family of severe mood swings and verbal assaults. Still, the younger of the two knew his boundaries and stepped away, raking a hand through his hair – _ which made his oversized sleeve fall down to his shoulder and expose the side of his torso through the hole, which Yuta tried (read: failed) to not stare at  _ –before disappearing out the door.

Heavy was the letter in his hand, and even more so the burden that would come with it.

Carefully, with the tip of his fingers, he unfolded the letter and spread it under his desk light. His eyes scanned the contents, trying to find the section he was searching for, until they stopped at the words  **TO TELL YOU** .

One heartbeat, second, third…

**YOU HAVE BEEN SUCCESSFUL IN THE FINAL TRAINING ASSESSMENT AND WILL NOW BE FULLY EMPLOYED AS A HERO**

His breath hitched in his throat, the word “hero” like a boulder in his trachea. Years ago, that would have been a dream come true. His father had forced him into the program once he manifested his ability, even forcing him out of college to train full time. He should have felt a sense of accomplishment at the letter, the victory, the success.

“Is it good news, Yuta?” Doyoung called from the kitchen. “If yes, maybe we can take out the meat sitting in the fridge for the night.”

Why did he only feel dread? It had only been slightly longer than a year since Doyoung had moved in, computer and all, into his dreary home. Even so, he had found himself blurting more white lies than in the past two decades of his life. There was no doubt how much harder it would be now, with him having to be present in the battlefield.

Doyoung was not a hero. A  _ normie, _ as the ones who manifested extraordinary abilities used as a discriminatory term. He’d be alone during lockdowns, big or small with no one but the dark rooms. The phone call would come any second, and Yuta found himself dreading it.

_ “It’s really good news! I passed the interview for the modelling company!” _

Another lie, painted white.

_ “Meat it is for tonight! Could you be a darling and get some soju down at the market?” _

His phone vibrated in his pocket, making his skin prickle. The wet letter was pulled too harshly from the desk, ripping in a crescent like a bad omen.

_ “I think they want me to come over tonight. How about tomorrow?” _

Lies. One piled upon the other. Forming a he did not lead, carving its place in the trust between him and his housemate. The string was being pulled taunt from his side, tighter and tighter.

_ “Well, call me when you come back, okay? I’ll heat up some leftover lunch beforehand.” _

_ “Sure!” _

He didn’t come back home until the next afternoon.

-

“You screwed yourself over, dimwit,” Jaehyun chuckled, sparing a glance at him through the mirror that had been placed at the end of the changing room. “You should have told him the moment you met!”

A stray pillow went flying towards the chestnut haired man but was deflected by a swift jerk of his head. The youngest among the three new heroes tutted loudly, stretching on the sofa like a cat with such strain that Yuta feared his suit might not hold.

Surely, ripping your hero's wear on your first day would not give a good impression.

“Jaehyun has a point, though,” Mark admitted, rolling over onto his back to glance at Yuta. “I mean, Hyuckie was scarred for life when I told him but he’s doing well now, isn’t he? I don’t think telling your housemate would be any harder than accidentally exposing yourself.”

Yuta grunted as he pulled the zip up to his collar, sending them both piercing glares, “Well, I don’t think summoning hurricanes would be that difficult, would it? You both  _ know  _ the scale of my ability.”

They did. That’s why it took longer for him to be assessed. If there was a pyramid of how lethal each ability was, his was ranked right at the top between the “Entropy” and “Reality Distortion”.

When he had turned 12, he had made the boy jump off the 10m board at a swimming complex and which led him to almost drown. In his defence, the boy was being an ass and was rather cowardly, a combination of two traits Yuta despised. His father, however, wasn’t as lenient and he had been sent to a boarding school with secret training programs for five years.

“Mind manipulation is wicked, not gonna lie,” Jaehyun grinned, slicking his hair back with gel. “So, you’re scared that your housemate will consider you a monster or something, like in the movies?”

Yuta scoffed. “No, I’m scared that he’d think –“

He broke off, suddenly feeling his heart grow heavy in his chest. Fear, it was fear that he was feeling. But fear for what? Fear for Doyoung’s life? His dreams? His future?

Or was he simply scared that after a year of trying hard to become someone comfortable in Doyoung’s cold life, Doyoung wouldn’t trust him anymore.

“I’m scared he won’t trust me,” was what finally exited his mouth. “I don’t want to lose the one thing bounding me to normality. Besides…”

He let his words hang in the air, making the others look at him expectantly.

Such was the tension that Yuta looked away, pretending to pat down himself in front of the mirror. It was one for him to refuse to stay in the Hero headquarters for the sake of a normie, it was another to reveal that said  _ normie _ had parents who were anti-gifted, and believed that superheroes and villains were better off dead.

It was what forced Doyoung’s brother, Jeno, into a mental institution meant to rid him of his abilities instead of entering training.

-

The sky had been grey when they met, billowing clouds that shaded the sun in hopes for its light to trace a silver lining. Yuta had been surprised –pleasantly, to say –when someone had rented a place in his two storey house a week after he had advertised it, the message came as a surprise amidst his general restlessness as bills piled under his ministrations.

When he had pushed open the rusty gate that towered barely over an inch over his head, it was as if whoever assigned fate had tugged at his string, prompting him to make a deliberate turn towards endless crossroads when a straight path had been presented.

“You’re the one, aren’t you?”

Like the chilly breeze of morning, the man in front of him was colder than glass, more fragile than porcelain. Upon assumptions, Yuta had managed to give an early imagery of his future with the doe eyed, tight lipped male that had entered his safe sanctuary.

Later he would realize that it was a trait born from a family more words than action, a façade he had drawn as a shield which Yuta would then strive to eradicate. That would be later, not right then.

“If you mean your housemate, then yes,” he had smiled warmly (Hopefully, it was warm. Jaehyun used to chide him for looking like a shark ready to consume its next meal) and allowed the space between them to fill with awkward silence.

Yuta had mentally scolded himself as he pushed the gate farther, feeling the icy cold eyes of his future housemate boring into the back of his skull as if he could twist his mind around whatever nonsense Yuta was pondering. Perhaps, it was his own fault for ditching job interviews and allowing himself to live off of sponsorship –there was higher risk of exposure if heroes were homeless –until Jaehyun had claimed that he was taking his job albeit for granted.

Well, not a job. For one, the salary for heroes was measly and two, he was still in training. Explained why he had risked exposing his identity by allowing someone to live with him, even if that someone was less likely to burn down the house than he was.

“If you’re wondering, Mr Nakamoto” the dark haired male called as he stumbled to the front door under the weight of a travelling pack. “My name is Doyoung.”

_ Doyoung… _

“Yuta. Call me Yuta.” He had said, keeping out any malice that had made its way into his tone of speaking. Still, the male –Doyoung –had disappeared into the house as if he owned it, leaving Yuta hanging by the gate like an unwanted pet.

-

“You’ve been coming home later than usual.”

Yuta froze in his tracks, arm flopping to his side before it could reach out to take the bottle of Fanta in the refrigerator. When he looked over the kitchen counter, he saw Doyoung in his usual oversized shirt looking out the window with a solemn expression.

“Work has been…difficult, lately.” was the only answer that crossed Yuta’s mind. It wasn’t particularly a lie was it? “I’ll try to come over as often if you want but –“

“Nevermind, hyung” Doyoung let out in a soft exhale, shaking his head slightly as if he were doubting his own intentions. “The house is lonely without you, and the news hasn’t been particularly good regarding the current villain situation.”

That was true too. Yuta had heard that more and more daylight crimes were occurring, no doubt due to the manifestation of even more Gifted, quickly recruited before the heroes could reach out. With that came the predictions of even more lockdowns of long time periods, keeping them inside. Doyoung had all the right to be scared.

Yuta walked over to the younger boy, gently setting him on the sofa before kneeling down in front of him. The latter gazed down at him with those vulnerable eyes, soft and understanding. It reminded Yuta of the day he had confessed that he had run away from home in order to escape his parents who had abandoned his younger brother.

It’s that gaze which made a swift wave of protectiveness wash over the Japanese man, eager to keep Doyoung from harm.

“The company had one of the best lockdowns in the country, Doie. So don’t be scared to put up the barrier when the siren sounds and I’m not here with you. I might not be able to call because the line doesn’t reach beyond the barrier.”

“But I want you here with me,” Doyoung whispered, the start of fresh tears brimming in his eyes which Yuta was quick to brush away as they started to overflow. “You’re my only distraction from the…the sounds outside and I don’t think I can stand the darkness if you’re not here. You know how much I hate the dark and there’ll be too many shadow and –“

Yuta leaned forward to press their foreheads together –before he could stop Doyoung’s rambling by pressing his lips to Doyoung’s impulsively –waiting patiently for Doyoung’s heavy breathing to cease, all the while tracing his thumb over Doyoung’s cheekbone.

It was always like this, the small shows of love when he wanted more –oh, did he want more.

Yuta could have told him there and then that he was not who he claimed to be, and he was the exact thing Doyoung was taught to despise. He could have said to him that he was going to be out there, battling it out using an ability that could twist and turn people’s perceptions and desires like clay.

Doyoung would,  _ might _ , understand. But Yuta, being who he was, was too scared to take that one step. It was better that way, better for him and for Doyoung.

Like the coward he was, Yuta pulled away and took Doyoung’s hands in his own.

“It’s okay to be scared, it means your body knows how to survive. I might be far from where you are when that goddamn siren activates, but remember that if anything happens to you, I’d burn down every single building in the area to find your bones.”

Doyoung let out a giggle, his smile mirroring Yuta’s as he let go of his hand to rake it through the elder’s fluffy white mullet. “Did you take a sneak peek into my novel or was that an epiphany of some sort?”

“I’m a romanticist, what else can I say?” Yuta said. “It made you laugh, didn’t it?”

“Because it’s cheesy as fuck!”

“We’ve lived together for over a year, you should be used to my bs by now!”

-

The world was burning.

_ His _ world was burning. The sky was a burning shade of red, like the moon when the night air was thick with carbon dioxide. Every inhale made coughs wrack his body, almost violent enough to jerk off the mask covering the lower part of his face.

Weren’t those damn things supposed to come with an air filter or something?

Beside him, he could see Mark vibrate with pent up adrenaline, every cell in his body screaming for him to run when he knew he couldn’t. They had trained for this, and running was not an option.

“Get back!” Jaehyun yelled, pulling both of them away as the ground underneath them –a road, tar and cement –cracked and unearthed itself in flying jagged pieces. Jaehyun brought up his arm and summoned a telekinetic shield as the cement came raining down above them.

_ Sector 12, Road 7. Don’t let them reach the hospital. Sector 12, Road 7. Don’t let them reach the hospital. Sector 12, Road 7. Don’t let them reach the hospital. Sector 12, Road 7. Don’t let them reach the hospital. Sector 12, Road 7. Don’t let them reach the hospital. Sector 12, Road 7. Don’t let them reach the hospital. _

“Mark, I need a clear view!” Yuta called over the sounds of battle surrounding them, almost choking on the smoke that rose from the fires.

The youngest in his squad of three shook away the daze of shock, tilting his head to the sky and exhaling a long breath. His eyes turned pearly white, swirling into milk-like colour before wind whipped around them almost like a tornado, pushing away the toxic components in the air.

Yuta inhaled a short breath before squinting beyond the cloud of smoke, identifying the shadows of the people they were battling against. He counted half a dozen, twice the amount they had. Still, from the way they used their abilities, it was evident they hadn’t trained enough.

A fatal flaw in the villain system.

“Get them in my range!” he ordered, crouching down as Jaehyun sent a large piece of flat concrete towards the villains, letting out a strained guttural cry. Upon seeing them break apart, two airborne and four grounded, they sprinted forward.

Yuta could feel the warmth of Jaehyun’s telekinesis against his skin as he pulled out his staff, expertly twirling it between his hands before spinning on one knee to swipe one of them off their feet. The person under his touch was lean, smaller than him which led him to believe that the force of the fall would keep him down.

Another person came at him, eyes shining yellow and claws protruding from his fingers. Yuta had a split second to collect energy at the balls of his feet before leaping high, launching himself over the other before gripping his shoulders and throwing him over his back. The villain went crashing onto his stomach, the wind knocked out of his lungs.

“YUTA!” Mark yelled, pointing at the airborne villains heading towards the hospital. Sending Mark a nod, he prepared himself before he was propelled upwards metres up into the air by a gust of wind, his long hair slapping his face as he bit back bile rising at the back of his throat.

As the wind subsided, he pressed a button on a cuff on his wrist which expanded his boots into a metal hoverboard, allowing him to surf on thin air in hot pursuit of the villains. Bless the technology.

Not expecting him to whip out such a device, one of them turned around and sent a blast of fire straight towards him. Yuta held his breath as he did a loop, cleanly avoiding the blast. Now that the air was clearer, he could see the familiar setting. They were nearby the local library which was too old to install any new barriers for lockdown.

His staff retracted from its box shape and Yuta sent a swing straight to his stomach, forcing him against the old walls of a building. He didn’t let the villain regain his breath, zooming forward to grab him by the neck and push him deeper into the bricks.

Behind his eyes, his power pulsed dangerously as the words he spoke echoed in his own ears, fuelled by his own fear and anger.

_ You are not Gifted and never will be _

Yuta barely had time to process his own order as he caught sight of the other villain metres away who was currently fighting some of the senior heroes, easily slamming them to the ground as if some invisible tentacle-like entity had been bound to him.

The fact that the villain he had just charmed was falling five floors down would probably be crippled didn’t occur to him as he made his way forward, his jet boosters increasing his speed. Before the villain could realize his presence, he had barrelled into him and pushed him with all the momentum he had to the ground.

Their impact caused the road to cave in and crack outwards like a web. He felt his breath force itself out of his lungs, but he maintained the steely grip on the villain. Jaehyun’s telekinetic aura fought off the invisible pressure that had started to wrap around his waist.

Choking and spitting out blood between his teeth, the villain under him struggled to no avail. When Yuta looked down at him, he only saw the fear glazed over by pretend bravery. In his mind’s eye, he could imagine Doyoung typing on his computer, his left hand jotting down notes as more inspiration came into his mind.

“What are you gaining from this?” Yuta snarled, not using his ability just yet. If the villain had even an ounce of humanity left in him, he would tell. “Why the hospital?”

The villain let out a wet round of laughter, throwing his head back only to wince as the wound on the back of his head hit the tar. “Not…hospital…fool. Beside it!”

Yuta whipped his head up, looking at the tall building sheltered under a metal dome which cured the sick. Beside it was an unprotected building, dark and almost abandoned looking with it’s eerie greenery and high meal gates.

Saint Andres home for the Impaired Gifted.

Jeno…Doyoung…

The keyboard was clicking; the pen was scratching at the paper. The person under him was laughing, eyes wild and unhinged as he pointed at the building with a taunting look. They had wanted to kill off any potential heroes. They had covered it as the hospital but they had been fooled.

All of them had,

Yuta’s head throbbed and his throat itched “ _ You tell us right now what –“ _

He broke off as the body under his jerked one last time before his head lolled to the side. He was holding a dead man in his grip, dead because of him. Dread coursed through his veins as he reached out to take off the mask hiding the top half of the person’s face.

The blank eyes of a boy too youthful to be an adult stared at him, lifeless. Yuta stumbled back, his fist shaking from guilt and pain, his stomach doing somersaults and causing vomit to rise up his trachea.

Yuta stumbled to the side of the road and let it out.

-

It was as if he were stumbling half blind the whole way home. Praying that the next gate he reached out to support himself was his own. There was always the price to pay when you were a villain, that Yuta knew from a decade of it being drilled into his head.

So why did it feel like he was getting the worse out of that quiet battle?

His hand secured around the familiar stainless steel gates of his house, leaning over to catch a breath that had been stuck in his throat for far too long. Hand reached out to take him, pressing warmth against his skin and wiping away the tears that had marked his cheeks.

“Hey, just a little bit more”

He had made it to the front door. When had he lost grip on reality in such a way? 

A familiar scent overcame him as Doyoung guided him past the stairway, towards the living room that had been painted a calm shade of cream to accommodate their stressful lives. He allowed the younger man to pull a blanket over his shoulders and kiss his forehead before excusing himself to go make some hot chocolate for them both.

No! He didn’t want to be alone.

He reached out to grab Doyoung’s hand -perhaps too desperately in his eyes -and pulled him back with a vulnerable whisper of “Stay with me”.

So he did.

Doyoung let himself into Yuta’s personal space and held him close, letting the elder of the two inhale his comforting scent, one untainted by smoke and blood. Even when the first few tears streamed down his face and sobs escaped his lips, Doyoung did not move. 

None of them could have come this far without each other, and it was that familiarity that Yut clung to in order to ground himself. With secrets laid between them, Yuta couldn’t tell Doyoung that he had killed a child, a mere  _ boy _ . And for once, Yuta was so close to doing so that his chest felt as if a balloon had expanded itself between his ribs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The question was there, soft spoken and so, so sincere. Yuta would have caved if not in his mind's eyes the mental institution flickered like a reminder. Doyoung had Jeno and his own family to worry about, and revealing he was the embodiment of the thing Doyoung was supposed to hate wouldn’t help any of them.

So he drew back a breath and said in the most stable tone he could muster.

“No, I don’t want to.”

He pretended to not see the way Doyoung’s eyes fell, growing less bright and less focused as he pulled him closer, as if that would stop the way his heart gripped in his chest like vines of thorns. Doyoung had long protected the red rose that beat in his chest, kept every petal instact as if that would save him the hurt of ever opening up.

But now that the doors were open and chilly air came blowing in, he could feel the first petal brown and detach from its stalk, settling like a stone at the pit of his stomach.

The next day, Yuta is not in his bed and Doyoung is sitting alone at the table, watching the morning sky brighten.

-

News about the planned attack on the was broadcasted two days later which had brought Yuta to an empty house early in the morning, Doyoung clearly making his way to St Andrews to visit Jeno. Still, Yuta had relied on his presence to be the only comfort in his strange world and with him gone, he had to find a substitute. 

Which was why Jaehyun and Mark were on his sofa, sharing a bag of chips with their socks still on. If Doyoung were there, he’d have a fit.

“Feet off the table,” Yuta ordered, reaching out with his foot to push Jaehyun’s off the coffee table he and Doyoung ate at during their movie nights. “Do they not teach you basic manners at the headquarters?”

“Stuff a dozen men in one room and that’s exactly what you get,” Jaehyun defended neutrally, sending Yuta a wink. “You should see the dorm beside us. I swear to God they had accidentally burned down their cupboard thrice this week!”

Mark grunted, shifting uncomfortably before summoning a mini tornado to throw the remote to him, only misaiming which caused it to hit him in the head. Yuta stifled a giggle as Mark scowled at the innocent object, perhaps pressing the buttons too viciously.

“No offense, hyung, but your subscriptions suck,” he complained as the channels he browsed through some channels -which Yuta did not fail to identify were cartoons --only to find them unsubscribe. “Are Nature documentaries the only thing you watch?!”

“Doyoung likes them,” Yuta replied, sending him a side glance. “He watches them to cool down his brain.”

His friends looked at each other with eyes that were too knowing, and Yuta knew exactly why. For once, he absolutely regretted training with both of them for the last few years. They could definitely read him like a book.

“You know, if he hates his family for locking up his brother, I don’t think he’d hate you for having abilities,” the elder among the two rationalized. “I still don’t understand what you’re so afraid about.”

That was the problem really, as pathetic as it was. He had held it off for far too long, and maybe because of that Doyoung would deem himself untrustworthy. Life would have been way easier if he had been born into a family that hadn’t Mind based abilities in the bloodline. 

“Maybe I should -” Yuta started but broke off as the front door beeped and was pushed open, a soft voice calling “I’m home!”

Yuta jumped to his feet, shocked that Doyoung had come home early and pestered Jaehyun and Mark to stand too. From afar he could hear the rustling of plastic bags and shoes being rearranged in the shoe closet.

“Yuta, when did you buy new shoes and why are they the same design?”

He cursed under his breath, sending a very murderous glare at his comrades before watching Doyoung pass by the doorway

And halt in his steps, passing his gaze over the newcomers questioningly before they fixated on Jaehyun and he gave a surprised  _ oh! _

Yuta turned to look at Jaehyun incredulously only to find the younger male staring at Doyoung with the most brightest eyes he had ever seen him have -which was a rare occurrence thus made a bubble of green envy stir unsettlingly in his stomach.

“I didn’t realize you were acquainted with Dongyoung?” Jaehyun asked, his tone one of question before his eyes lit up in realization. “Oh, wait,  _ you’re _ Doyoung?”

“I’m sorry, you know my housemate?” Doyoung let out a breathy laugh, directing his wide smile at Yuta - _ calm down, calm down shit that gummy smile _ \- and dropped the groceries by the tv. “Little world, huh?”

“Y-yeah, small world,” Yuta replied bashfully before gesturing for his housemate to take a seat, turning around to claim the solo sofa only to find Mark and Jaehyun claiming both of them, forcing him to sit next to Doyoung.

“He’s a regular customer back at the cafe where I work!” Jaehyun explained too enthusiastically for Yuta’s comfort. “Sometimes I see him write every other day with his laptop. Didn’t know you were an author, Doie!”

_ Doie?! _

“Yeah, I mean there’s a reason I purchased the extra shots of espresso,” Doyoung  _ laughed  _ at  _ Jaehyun _ . The latter tutted, leaning back comfortably on his sofa before sending Yuta a side glance.  _ The audacity of this - _

“If I’m not mistaken, it’s usually Johnny who pays for you.” Jaehyun leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs as he peers at Doyoung curiously. “The tall American dude? The one who keeps making me write sappy messages on the cup holders?”

“ _ Jae! _ ”

Oh yes, Yuta was burning.

“Didn’t know you were into foreigners.” Yuta tried to sound natural until he realized what he had said, causing the room to giggle as he flushed red. “I was filtering it. I was wondering if you’re into white people.”

The statement made Doyoung blanch, smacking Yuta’s thigh. “He’s just a friend with one two many credit cards. There’s no harm in helping out a broke author who lives off of chinese delivery and instant noodles.”

No harm indeed.

-

The few days that passed were ones of pure agony, in Yuta’s perspective that is. 

Doyoung, apparently, had deadlines to meet not only for his novel, but also multiple submissions for short story fests Yuta didn;t even know existed. It was aggravating more than it was enraging, mainly because Yuta hoped to see at least a note stuck to the fridge about his whereabouts and perhaps some food to microwave after a day of training and a night of patrolling.

What made it even worse was that Doyoung had claimed his working space at home was too distracting -although Yuta did offer to move his bed to his room so he wouldn’t be tempted to fall asleep. No such luck.

Which brought to the main idea that hsi housemate was spending time with an American man who pays for his meals and gets to stay with him all day. The very thought had fueled Yuta enough to send more than a dozen men sprawling on the floor during a battle simulation.

“Fucking hell,” Mark scoffed as Jaehyun whistled in appreciation. “If jealousy makes you this strong, I should try and blind date Doyoung.”

“Hyuck will find your corpse at your doorstep the next day.” 

“Definitely”

Yuta had been on the edge for the past few weeks, and nothing about Doyoung’s absence made him calm. It was the way Doyoung came home at night, his hair messy and clothes untucked, but with the widest smile on his face that made Yuta so...hurt?

“At this point, I’m not sure if study buddies are the only thing you two are,” Yuta had fake laughed as Doyoung flung himself onto the sofa with quiet groans of fatigue. “Did you bring anything back for me?”

“Salary doesn’t come until next month, Yuta”

“Right…”

Regarding superhero business, Yuta had found himself one too many times involved in nightly battles that sapped his strength and energy like none other. Anger could only fuel you for so long, and as weariness took its place, Yuta found the kills and pain he brought unto to villains he fought making himself feel numb. 

And perhaps it was that numbness that he sought out for as he made more and more villains forget who they were, why they were there, what had happened and so on. It gave him a sense of control when he was losing grip of the reality he was in. There was less comfort back at home, so he searched for it like a thirsty man in a dessert.

The company had realized and asked him if he wanted a break. He had declined. It was the battle and high of control that he needed, insanity be damned. Lockdowns became more frequent as he was brought all over Korea for long periods of time, ranging from centres to public buildings and even villages. It drove Yuta mad that he couldn’t place a finger on their intentions, and that each new attack was a new surprise he didn’t look forward to. 

The rising tension and stress had been bottled for quite the amount of time, waiting to explode. And what had set him off in the end was coming back to the house and hearing two voices instead of one.

“DOIE WHAT THE FUCK!’

The male was holding onto a glass of water, sitting crossed legged on the floor with his oversized white tee flowing over his legs to hide his feet. At the island that made up the kitchen was a tall man who adorned an autumn coat and brown slacks. It occured to Yuta that  _ this  _ giant of a man was probably the person that had made Doyoung happy when Yuta couldn’t.

That made him even angrier.

“May I remind you that this isn’t  _ your  _ house, but  _ mine _ ” Yuta said darkly, reaching out to pull Doyoung albeit too harshly to his feet. “What’s your deal bringing him over?”

The latter didn’t answer, his jaw set in a stubborn line before he looked over at Johnny and said in a soft voice “Leave us, I’ll be there soon”

_ I’ll be there soon. _

Doyoung stood there, rigid and defiant until they heard the door open and lock itself. Needless to say, he didn’t like how it was going nor did he enjoy the tension that had started brewing between them. “Something tells me, Yuta, that as much as an explanation I could give, you wouldn’t listen.”

So that’s how he was going to play, was he? Yuta had had enough of the snarky side of Doyong to match up with his own growing temper. “ _ I  _ wouldn’t listen? You tell me right here right now Kim Doyoung what went up in your pretty head when you decided to bring someone over without telling me?”

“Your cell was off and has been for the whole week you went  _ missing _ without telling  _ me _ ” the latter defended heatedly, his voice tinged with hatred. “You expect me to rot in here all alone with lockdowns coming every other day and not have one more person by my side?”

“I could have been there for you -”

“You were  _ gone  _ for the past week and have been disappearing from my life and I sure know as HELL that that isn’t how modelling works! You’ve been lying to me as if I’m the same stupid person I was a year ago!”

“You’re the only one who thinks you’ve changed but all you are is a failure of an author who can’t even afford an apartment for himself! You talk to me like this as if I hadn’t been so lenient on the fact that you’ve been using me and my house for over a year with less pay -”

“I didn’t even ask for it!”

“- now all I want is for you to pack your bags and GO!”

_ Silence. _

It was in the heat of the argument that he had not realized the throbbing behind his eyes, too small and too easily ignored after one too many days of training. He saw the moment Doyoung’s eyes went blank, as if he’d just detached a chord that had allowed him the right of choice. In those three seconds of watching Doyoung’s brain stutter back to full use, Yuta felt his blood run cold.

He never knew how to reverse the effects of his ability.

“You know what...I’ll be going,” Doyoung said, voice barely over a whisper. When he turned around, Yuta reached out to grab his hand.

“Stay...at least until the end of the month. Then you can go, and you won’t have to come back to me again.”

He could have tried to use his ability to make him stay, but that always failed during the experiments. The mind couldn’t handle the dilemma caused by mind control, and he didn’t want to risk Doyoung going through that. He saw Doyoung’s eyes flicker as if having second thoughts before he nodded tiredly and let his hand slip out of Yuta’s.

“Don’t come into my room.”

And he didn’t. In fact, he and Doyoung didn’t say a word nor did they eye contact with each other for the following week. When the time came and duty called two weeks before the month was over, Yuta packed his bags and headed to the headquarters, his heart heavy from his own hypocrisy.

But he trusted that Doyoung would keep his word.

-

Suits were stuffy. They made it hard to breathe, hard to even sit down properly.

“The range of the attacks went as far as going past the border,” he said, trying to keep his voice steady (who on earth decided to put the air conditioner on pull blast?) as he pointed at the projector. 

Apparently, his role as one of the lethal ones also included presenting current stats, which he hated with a passion. Mark couldn’t even help out and he'd be shocked if Jaehyun could even stand to make the table. Hopefully, his overnight effort had been worth it because if not, he had wasted hours of sleep.

“The scale of the attacks increased from normal robberies to dropping explosives, even attempting chemical substances around the area of Jeju although not aiming straight for the center. We still need a look out for-”

His phone buzzed on the table.

“Sorry, I’m sure I silenced it just now,” he apologized in a hurry, almost shrinking under the gazes of the many important heroes in front of him. When he checked the settings, however, his phone was indeed silent with the vibrations off. Huh, that was weird.

Clearing his throat, he turned back to his slides, catching the eye of Jaehyun who looked at him worriedly in which he sent a barely seen shake of his head. “So, about the attacks based on the northern -”

_ Bzzzzzzzz bzzzzzzzzz bzzzzzzzz _

“I think you should answer that.” someone called kindly, but Yuta had long snatched up his phone before that. Face identification instantly unlocked the lock screen and before he could swipe his finger down, the messaging app opened itself as if it had a mind of its own. There was a patter of his two comrades as they neared him.

Eyes glued to the screen, they watched in a mix of horror and amazement as the screen glitched before message bubbles appeared, each one longer than the other but repeating the same phrase over and over.

_ HELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPMEHELPME _

“Is something the matter?” someone called, but Yuta had lost focus. The last message sent was like a douse of ice cold water on his mind.

_ Yuta, I’m dying _

“It;s Doie!” he yelled, clutching the phone harder and instantly whipping around to look at the map on his slides. They had moved too fast! Thank God he hadn’t travelled just yet. “Get the air patrol on duty near the library. We might catch someone on foot.”

-

The gate was open.

That was what Yuta realized first. At 7pm, the steel gates were open and swinging back and forth. Doyoung would’ve been too paranoid to even keep it unlocked, and the sight rang bells in Yuta’s head. 

“Come on!” he called to Jaehyun and Mark before rushing inside, biting the tip of his tongue to stop unnecessary power induced words from being blurted out of panic. When he twisted the door knob, he prayed that it was locked.

It wasn’t and the door swung open, creaking at its hinges.

Chaos. His house was in chaos. His potted plants, nearly aligned at the doorway, had been overturned with its soil making boot prints on the floor. The floor was dented, and the ceiling had holes, wires hanging from the cracks as if someone had punched a fist through and pulled them out. The sparks flickered and spit meter above their heads.

The living room had been turned upside down, soda’s ripped and thrown aside,the carpet torn apart. The drawers were pulled out at the kitchen, knives scattered on the floor. Yuta held in his scream as he ran up the stairs, not caring to be light footed. 

If he saw anyone nearby, they’d be stabbing themselves before even thinking about doing it to him.

“Yuta hyung, calm down.” Mark said, placing a hand on his shoulder as they reached the upper floor. A wide space that connected to one bathroom and two bedrooms, decorated to become a reading space for both of them.

_ Them...Doie… _

“I hear the computer,” Yuta whispered as they advanced to the door of Doyoung’s room. “He’s in there.”

Two meters away, he ran forward and burst in, scanning the room to find any intruders but found none. His gaze passed on the laptop that was broken on Doyoung’s desk, the mouse that fell down to the ground where a hand lay, bloodied and still.

“Doie?” Yuta tried to call, but his breath was stuck in his throat. There was the urgent push for him to move faster, but his legs felt like lead. Blood was in the air, on the floor, on the wall. “Doyoung?”

The computer screen glitched, a mimic of Yuta’s own phone which had stopped the eerie messages. Yuta stumbled forward, catching himself when he almost tripped to look over the side of the queen sized bed in the room.

His hair was matted with dried blood, sticking to his forehead and mixing with the thin sheen of sweat that glistened on his skin. Complexion now a pasty white, Doyoung was struggling to breathe around the rips in his abdomen that trickled between the spaces between his fingers as they clutched at the torn flesh, as if it could keep together the mess that was slowly draining his lifeforce.

“Doie, oh my God!” Yuta breathed, crouching down before whipping his head back to call out a desperate “Get an ambulance!” to his subordinates. He turned his focus back on Doyoung whose eyes fluttered open upon hearing his voice, a small moan of pain released from between his pale lips as Yuta gently pulled him onto his lap and wrapped Doyoung’s limp arms around his neck. “Breathe, Doie!”

He pulled off his coat suit before pressing the thick fabric to Doyoung’s wound, trying to keep the sob in his throat from being heard as the hurt male let out a strangled cry, hands moving to try and push away Yuta’s hands from pressing harder to no avail. Yuta needed to save him.

“It’s going to be okay, just hold on to me Doie, Doie?” Yuta’s eyes passed on his housemate whose eyes had glazed over. Frantically, he tapped Doyoung’s cheek in an effort to get him back to reality. “Come on Doyoung, focus on me! Focus...please!”

A glimmer of consciousness was in his eyes, that Yuta could see. Still, he could feel the end coming closer and closer as Doyoung’s breaths ran out, blood trickling from the side of his mouth and gushing from the stab wounds in his stomach. Abandoning the effort to place pressure on the wound, Yuta cradled Doyoung’s head, carefully pulling him close enough so he could feel Doyoung’s faint breaths against his cheek.

_ It was now or never. _

“I’m sorry it had to be this way, and I’m sorry for lying. It’s my fault, Doie, for lying to you for months and caving into the worst parts of myself when I wanted you to see only the best sides of me. None of this was your fault, Doie, and I won’t ask you to forgive me now that...that we’re here.”

_ A little bit more, Yuta _

“I love you so much, Doyoung,” he whispered, hoping Doyoung could still hear. “I loved you the moment I saw you, and I love you still.”

He heard the heavy bots against the floor as paramedics barged into the room, clanking metal and plastic. Yuta could feel himself feeling light headed as they pulled Doyoung from his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into this air as the tendrils of darkness seeped into his vision, the back of his eyes throbbing as hsi eyelids started to fall. “Please don’t die.”

-

“This isn’t how it was supposed to happen...you think he’d be happy to wake up and realize he’s a murderer-?”

“Mark, not here. He’s still resting!”

“FUCK ALL OF YOU!”

“Mark, wait!”

Yuta shifted under what seemed to be a blanket at the sound of a door slamming shut. A voice too familiar cursed under his breath and helped him up even before he could manage to open his eyes. A straw was placed between his dry lips and he drank faster than his esophagus could manage because he ended up in a coughing fit a few seconds after.

“Hey, easy now. Your last act took quite the toll.”

_ Last...act..? _

Finally, Yuta pried his eyes open only to squint at the sheer whiteness of his surroundings, and the face that filled half his vision. Johnny’s brows furrowed in worry, looking to care for Yuta to muster up any malice against him. He had screwed up big time.

The tall man he had hated upon sight let out a heavy sigh, carefully seating himself by Yuta’s bed. There was heaviness in his eyes, on his shoulders that made them slump down. Yuta couldn’t help but feel guilty for it.

“If you’re wondering, Doyoung’s alive,” Johnny said, his eyes, amber under the white light, flickering up to look at Yuta with a hardened gaze before the latter could say another word. “But I think I owe you an explanation on what has been going on...and what you’ve done.”

Yuta leaned back, suddenly feeling dread coursing through his veins “The phone...the messages that Doyoung sent -”

“He’s been hiding secrets from you, the same way you’ve been hiding your own,” Johnny said. “But he knows where you’ve been and what you can do. It was one of the reasons he accepted to move in anyway.”

A crack was appearing on the glass.

“He’s gifted.”

Shatter.

“No way,” Yuta muttered, clenching his sheets. “He’d have been recruited the moment he manifested. That’s the reason why scanners and telepaths exist, to identify a new gifted -”

“But not when he’s in the range of someone with mind abilities. Imagine repelling a kind of wave using one of different amplitudes. Believe it or not, Yuta, you are the one who was hiding him the whole time, and he made sure of that long before he became your company.”

“So all of this was a lie?” Yuta asked, trying to keep the shakiness out of his voice. “He used me!”

“He was protecting you and all the people at the agency without any of you knowing.” Johnny interrupted harshly. “Leaving traces of your identity on the internet, easier to trace than a fingerprint. He wasn’t just typing away in his room. He was erasing every single evidence of your existence before the villains found you.”

“For what? I was fine before -”

“Because you were protected as a sidekick, then you became a real superhero. He could have left and lived with me, but he didn’t. All because he was so afraid that they’d find  _ you _ .” Johnny was seething, raking a frustrated hand through his hair. “I...I have the same ability as you, Yuta. So when he wasn’t in your range, he had to stay with me to get out of the radar and to keep in touch with his technology!”

His technology...Doyoung was a technopath. It explained why he was so intent on keeping his files and laptop to himself, hsi secretive stories behind corrupted links and unknown codes. He had been such a fool, a fool in love.

“Then...how did they find him if he was with you?”

Johnny closed his eyes, setting his elbows on the mattress to lean his forehead against his clasped hands. “You used your ability on him, and for a long period of time. I wasn’t able to realize this, and your imprint remained on him for the whole month so I assumed you were with him the whole time...but you weren’t.”

With that, Johnny stood, pulling his bag over one shoulder. “They found him before any of us could realize what was happening. He’s in room 790 on the seventh floor. I think he’d want to tell you the worst part himself.”

“Worst part?” Yuta asked, but Johnny had made his way out, leaving him alone in the ward. Slowly, Yuta pulled himself off the bed.

-

“You saved me,” Doyoung said, not looking at him from his spot at the edge of his bed, looking away from the male currently standing by the doorway. “I don’t know what to feel about that.”

Yuta didn’t know what to say, so he simply stayed quiet as he walked over to sit beside Doyoung, eyes tracing every single inch of skin he could see.

In his mind's eye, he had imagined Doyoung in bandages, bleeding and hurting with tubes coming from his arms and wires under his skin. He imagined blue lips and closed eyes, a heart monitor beeping in eerie silence and perhaps a cold hand to hold. 

The Doyoung he beheld was in one piece in a way that seemed too unrealistic. There was, indeed, an IV in his arm on his hand that proved that blood had been donated into his system. However, he sat with not even a wince of pain, eyes bright and lucid and skin a healthy flush as if he had just woken up from a deep slumber. There were no bandages or blood in sight, replaced by clean hospital wear and scarless skin.

“You’re okay,” Yuta breathed, a grin etching itself on his face. “I...I did that didn’t I?”

“Yes, you did.” the other man replied, turning to look at the latter with a small smile before a and cupped his cheek and drew him close. “And while you’re still smiling, I want to share this moment of joy with you.”

Doyoung’s lips were soft, plush and warm under his own dry ones, as if it had been Yuta who had almost died. Yuta melted into his touch, parting the gates of his own personal heaven using his tongue to let them explore the caves of their quiet lust. He would have done anything to move a step further, to deepen that kiss until it wasn’t just breathless sighs coming from their lips, but he knew now was not the time.

When they broke off, faces close enough to share a breath, Yuta placed it upon himself to push open the door of truth he had denied. “There’s more to what I did, wasn’t there?”

“There is...but whatever I say after this, do not blame yourself.” Doyoung’s tone was soft but stern, one that was familiar to Yuta and he desperately basked in that familiarity. Desperately. “You used your ability to bring back life...and now I’m uninjured. But, Yuta...that’s not how nature works. You can’t bend fate to your want, and doing so has its consequences.”

And Yuta remembered the banter before he woke up. The murky conversation he picked up the moment his consciousness rose to the surface.

_ “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen...you think he’d be happy to wake up and realize he’s a murderer-?” _

“You couldn’t have expected it to happen, none of us did. It doesn’t make you any worse of a person.”

_ “FUCK ALL OF YOU!” _

“When you made me come back, it was like a mirror or something. No one was home when it happened and when they found him, it was too late.”

_ “Mark, wait!” _

“I’m so sorry, Yuta...Donghyuck is gone.”

He had killed Donghyuck. A life for a life, the eternal burden of his ability that would remind him every time he saw Doyoung, every time he saw Mark.

Mark…

Mark, who he had sworn to protect with his life. Who spoke of his roommate with such fondness that his eyes sparkled and brightened like dawnlight. Donghyuck whom he had not met, yet had been the consequence of his selfish actions.

“I’m a murderer,” he spoke the words quietly, and suddenly everything didn’t make sense. His hands roamed wildly, trying to find something to ground himself until Doyoung took him in his arms and held him close, whispering comforting words in his ear as a hand was brushed through the thick strands of his hair. “I killed a child, Doie!”

“It wasn’t your fault. Things like that happen, okay? We’ll...we’ll visit him later but I need you to understand that no one had anticipated it.” Doyoung said gently, holding him tighter as the latter started trembling in his embrace. “When Mark found him, he had bled to sleep. There was no sign, no way you could have known.”

That wasn’t it, only part. The window rattled with sudden wind, leaves lifted to press against the glass. Mark had lost trust in him, and perhaps Jaehyun would leave too. There was so much more to his story that stemmed from a murdered boy, but that was a reality he wasn’t ready to face.

Now, in his arms, Doyoung was alive. He had saved Doyoung, and for now he would pretend that that was all that had happened. 

-

_ A hurricane, swirling around a single figure that crouched by a fallen tree. A swing, now broken attached to its branch. The figure was crying, but his cries were drowned out by the wind he was creating. A storm was coming. _

_ “Mark...I’m sc...scared...M-Mark...p-please...cold...Ma...rk…” _

_ Red, white, red, white, _

_ The cries could be heard now, echoing off the walls of a room that smelled of home and boys. A boy was shaking, his sobs racking his body violently as he held an unmoving body in his arms, damp with scarlet that should have never spilled. _

_ “Hyuckie?...hey, I’m here...please, please Hyuck...you’re so cold, I could have…I could have been the one to keep you w-warm..Hyuckie...my Hyuckie…” _

_ Eyes,half closed. Gazing into the distance, blank and lifeless as the eyes of a doll. Tear tracks parting red that smudged around his mouth and nose, red handprints on the white walls proof of a struggle with something that could not be fought. _

_ It was their home, and he was alone when he found him. It was a moment of pain that was his, and his alone. A blessing he had seen half an hour ago was nothing but a curse.  _

_ Wind knocked over a picture frame standing on a drawer between two beds. _

_ A figure in a billowing cloak, overlooking the city. Someone was beside him, placing a hand on his shoulder, prompting him to look up. The night sky was starless, the city lights overshadowing their glow. Cold, so cold. _

_ Fire, storm, rage, fear, guilt, screams, crying, wind, sky, burn, broken, hurt _

Jeno sat up, his hand clutching his chest as the throbbing in his head overwhelmed any attempts at lucidity his mind could offer. It had been intense, as all his visions were. His room was not the one he had seen, the cemented ground and stone walls greeting him.

He looked out the barred window, at the starless sky.

The wind knocked on the glass, harsh and vicious. Like a cry of pain.

Jeno curled up under his covers, closing his eyes to try and steady his rapid breaths. Against his will, tears dripped down his cheeks and dampened his pillow. There was a rapping on his door, prompting him to sit up abruptly once again. That wasn’t right...all doors were locked at night. None of the  _ doctors  _ ever cared about them enough to check up on their conditions.

Something behind the door clicked, and the door swung open to reveal Na Jaemin, in all his glory standing at the doorway with his hand spread out. There was no dent on the door, but wires hung from the thick metal as if Jaemin had managed to phase through it.

That wasn’t right...he was too drugged to do so.

“Nana, how did you get out?” Jeno asked, slipping out of bed to approach him. No more than three steps after, a figure in dark hoodie appeared behind his best friend, eyes dark and gaze menacing. But that wasn’t all to it. Jeno saw the pain behind it, the quiet suffering behind those orbs that made them waver in the slightest of ways.

He had  _ seen  _ the person before...but where?

“The world is too old fashioned for the new generation, don’t you think?” the figure, who pulled off his hood to reveal a youthful face, all edges and angles. “Unnecessary fights between the good and bad, heroes and villains, right and wrong…”

The room was getting cold, Jeno could feel it. 

“We need someone like you to make a change to this world. There’s more to this than the present. It’s time to change the future,” the boy had stopped right in front of him, and a knowing smile spread on his face, raising his cheekbones. “I’ve heard of you before, Jeno. It’s not safe here. Care to take this conversation somewhere else?”

Jeno swallowed the lump in his throat as the boy held out a hand. It was a choice, Jeno knew. He sensed danger, but it was not coming from this intimidating man in front of him. He had relied on his precognition to save himself, and he knew this was it. The turning point, perhaps the tipping point in his life.

He returned the grip, and the stranger chuckled to himself, giving his hand a firm shake.

“Good choice, Jeno. I’m Mark. Mark Lee.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> You finished :) Thus, another work from me has been finished, and I'm glad I managed to finish this one earlier than expected *cough* college *cough*. Also, stay safe and stay healthy!!! Happy early Christmas, I guess? hahaha


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